Death Valley
by QuierdoMusic
Summary: Why do Sam and Dean hate camping? Here is my... guess. Teen-Chester. Hurt!Sam...
1. Chapter 1

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**Hey guys... I have a question... PLEASE VOTE FOR DEAN... he's losing against somebody who's called "Fox" on SpoilerTv**

**spoilertv. com****/2010/09/2010-character-competition-fox-mulder****.html**

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**Why do Sam and Dean hate camping? Here is my... guess. Teen-Chester**

**Eventually Hurt!Sam**

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**Prologue**

John turned around to look at his sleeping sons. He was so glad that the two guys were finally asleep. They've been butting heads for the whole drive. Mr. Independent, who proudly turned sixteen yesterday, thought he could figure out everything by himself now and Mr. Mother-Hen didn't think so.

Sam had been asking stuff about the hunt all the time and Dean was on his edge since Sam would be a part of the hunt for the first time.

"Was easier when you've been here last time, huh?" Bobby asked from the passenger side. John chuckled silently, nodding. "You're okay with being here, again?"

"Yeah..." John shrugged. "The boys don't remember what happened here last time... Sam doesn't even remember being here at all."

"Dean does?" Bobby asked, watching his friend. He could just see John's silhouette in the dark.

"Uhm well... he still knows that we were in a desert once..." John explained. "He had been eight years old, knowing nearly nothing about hunting... Well... I'm glad _I_ know more this time." John faced Bobby for a second. "Thanks so much for joining us."

"No problem." Bobby nodded, looking at the map on his lap. "Right now. The California- 190 West." He rubbed his hands together, turning the heater on.

John turned right, entering the small, narrow street, which leads directly to the Death Valley Junction. Everything was so similar, yet so different. He still knew that they would leave the street in about fifteen minutes, driving through nothing but plain dust and stone, seeing nothing but desert.

The most weird thing was that they didn't sit in the Impala. The pick-up they've rented was more comfortable and more secure, it didn't need as much fuel as the Impala and it had a heater in it that also ran when the car didn't.

The best part was the little mini-trailer. It was just enough for the four of them to fit in. Not even Sam could stand straight in there. But they could stay in the near of the hunted place and didn't have to go back to the civilization.

John remembered that last time... they would have needed an air-conditioning.

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**Flashback**

"Daddy... it's sooo hot." Sam whined, patting his little hands against the backseat of the Impala. "Really daddy... I swear I will melt, just like the ice-cream."

"No... Sammy... you're not gonna melt." Dean told his little brother. "Because you're not an ice-cream." Dean poked at the little kid's nose. When John looked at his sons, he couldn't help but smile, though he could swear he was going to melt, too. The interior of the black car was extremely hot.

"Daddy..." Sam whined, rubbing his sweaty face at his brother's forearm.

"Ugh..." Dean pretended to gag, pushing his brother away. "Yukky."

"Be nice, Dean-o." John admonished with a smile.

"He's nice." Sam nodded eagerly.

"You hear him." Dean grinned, taking a small sip of his water bottle.

**End Flashback**

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"Dad... you wanna tell us what's going on here finally?" Sam asked, hugging himself, while his teeth chattered. He wore a sweatshirt, a jacket over it and thick, long sweatpants and was freezing though. He had just woken up and already tried to pick a fight again. "Come on... we're here in the desert... somewhere in the _Death Valley..._ And I don't even think we're allowed to be here... since we didn't talk to any ranger and here is... nothing... damn it dad... tell me why we're here."

Dean was preparing the sleeping place, spreading blankets on the mattresses on the ground, murmuring something inaudible. They've finally reached their destination. A part of the Death Valley, far away from any tourist areas, close to the Badwater Basins.

"What?" Sam shot around, glaring at his brother.

"Sam..." John hit his hand against the chilled hood of the car. "Shut up... and get into the car."

The three older men could see the inner struggle of the youngest hunter, who debated with himself whether to go inside and warm up, or to get warm by shouting at his brother.

Dean was the one who seemed to decide, pushing past Sam, getting into the warmed up trailer, balling his cold hands. The rest followed, closing the doors.

"Bobby... stay away from the walls... they might freeze." John looked at the thermometer. "Oh darn... 5°F out there... Dean..." The father turned to his oldest, who was about to get out of his shoes. "...fetch some of the water bottles... I don't want them to freeze... we need them tomorrow."

Dean immediately obeyed, making Sam grunt.

"Sam... get out of your jacket." Bobby nudged the Winchester, shrugging out of his own jacket.

"Yeah... right... it's fricking cold." Sam chucked, sitting down beside Bobby, when Dean entered the small room again, throwing a few bottles into a corner, his hands shaking.

"True." He nodded, rubbing his arms with both hands. He got rid of his shoes and his jacket before he slid under the blankets between his dad and his little brother. John started rubbing Dean's arm, insisting on warming his boy up.

"Sam... you still wear you jacket." Dean stated. "Get out of it. The warmth gonna make you sick in the morning."

"You're brother's right..." John laid down, rubbing his tired eyes with his knuckles. "Sam..."

"Leave me alone." Sam snarled, annoyed.

"Don't say we didn't warn you, kiddo." John shrugged, burying himself under his blanket.

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	2. Chapter 2

**Next morning**

"Oh my..." There was a small voice in the trailer, before rustling of sheets were audible. Just a few seconds later a youth got out of the small place, dropping onto his knees.

"Ah... damn it..." Dean moaned, following Sam, while the older men just sat there, looking sympathetic. "Sammy." The older brother kneeled down beside the other boy, helping him out of the thick jacket, before he rubbed the back of the puking boy. "Damn.. gah... I should kick your ass for getting sick... darn... I've told you."

Sam looked up at his worried brother. And for a change he really smiled at him. "Wouldn't help much." He wanted to add that he was fine, but turned around quickly to hurl again.

"Sammy... are you okay?" John asked, sitting down on the edge of the wagon, a hand on Sam's head.

"Stupid." Dean snarled, pulling his brother's sleeves up, resisting the urge to smack Sam across the back of his head and only because his dad wouldn't like it.

"Dean" John tried to calm his one son down, before he turned to his other. "Sam... tonight you'll get rid of the jacket."

"Leave me alo-" Sam tried to push his brother's hands away, and was pretty much startled when his brother gripped his chin ungentle, jerking his head around, so Sam had to face him.

"Shut up Sam." Dean admonished. "You've said that yesterday. You told us to leave you alone and look what the result is." When his little brother didn't response, Dean shook his head and stood up again. "Go change. And drink something." The older brother's voice was a little softer. That had been a mistake, leading Sam to gather enough courage to fight back again.

"You know what?" Sam shouted, standing up, swaying slightly. "I have enough... You two treat me like I'm a little boy. I'm old enough to take care of myself." Then he glared from his shocked brother to his stunned father. "You don't want to tell us what this hunt is about? FINE. Don't... I'm gonna find it out myself." With that he stormed off, his family and Bobby watching him leave.

It must have been raining the both older men realized, seeing the wet ground.

"_Sam stop_." Bobby shouted some seconds later, jumping out of the sleeping place, when John stood up, too, storming after his son, Bobby right behind him. Dean looked confused, understanding the older men's actions, when Sam suddenly screamed at the top of his voice, sinking into one of the many dangerous dense mud places.

"Help!" The youth yelled, desperate, sinking into the mud, struggling. "Dean... Dad..."

"Sammy..." Dean yelled, but he was caught by Bobby, who tried to hold him back.

"Stop struggling." John commanded, searching for a save way to reach his son.

"Dad." Panic was in the teen's voice.

John get a tight -a little too tight- grip on his son's arm, pulling roughly. Now Sam's screams were more of pain than of fear.

Seconds later Sam was finally free, both Winchester laying on the ground, breathing hard.

Dean relaxed, running his hands through his hair. He felt like puking.

John had still his vice-like grip on Sam's arm, when Sam scooted backwards, trying to hide himself in his father's secure arms, but the oldest Winchester pushed him back and stood up pulling his son with him.

"Ow, dad... you're hurting me." Sam pushed at John's hand, which still held his arm. John just looked down at him, his eyes furious. "Dad..." He whimpered, still shocked.

When John finally snapped out of it, he shoved Sam back a little, turned around and left for the car. "Hurry up everybody. Sam change. I want to go to that town."

Sam wanted to ask which town he was talking about, but he still stood at the point, frozen, until his brother was by side, a gentle hand on his abused arm, obviously inspecting the forming bruise. "Uh... dad did a number on your arm, kiddo." Dean sounded mad. Sam locked eyes with him, apologizing for what happened. Dean nodded, leading Sam to the little trailer.

"Sammy... don't look at me like that..." Dean handed him fresh clothes, laying his hand on the side of his brother's face. "Mud is good for the skin, pretty boy."

"Dean... Sam." John shouted.

"Yeah." Dean yelled back. "Give us one minute."

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**Flashback**

"Dean... do you want to sit in the front?" John asked. Sam was finally asleep and they were nearly at the motel where the boys would stay.

Immediately Dean climbed to his father's side, leaning against his John, touching the wheel with his fingers.

John looked at his eight year old boy lovingly, running a hand through Dean's hair, hugging him to his side. Dean smiled up to his father, nestling into the leather jacket.

"Where are we going, daddy?" Dean asked, closing his eyes.

"You're going to stay with a friend of mine."

Dean nodded, trusting his father unconditionally, while snuggling down, breathing in the scent of the jacket.

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Dean hated the bad mood. He huffed, squeezing the old leather jacket, which was his now into the duffle.

"We can finally go?" John asked, glaring at Sam when his boys stepped out.

"Damn it dad." Sam yelled annoyed. He had let his guard down, after his father had rescued him. He was the one who had wanted some reassurance from his father and all his father did was rejecting him. "I didn't want to... drown in mud... I'm sorry you had to save me." He mocked.

"Shut up, Sam." John gritted his teeth, starting to walk.

"I hate you." Sam murmured, knowing that he was childish. Bobby ran a hand through his hair, hearing it, while Dean bit his lip, looking from his father who was walking in front of him to his brother beside him.

John spun around, making Sam jerk back. "Yeah? Fine. I not really fond of you right now, neither."

"Dad..." Dean's voice was quiet, when his father turned around again to walk further.

"Get going." John interrupted his son, walking on. Bobby shook his head and rolled his eyes, following his friend.

"Come on Sammy." Dean tucked at his brother's jacket gently. Sam easily swatted his older brother's hands away, feeling a bang of guilt explode in his guts, when he saw the hurt in his brother's eyes. Dean just tried to help.

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Dean hadn't understood firstly why they had left the car, but after following his father around for about two hours, he realized that a pick up wouldn't have survived that. Those dense mud places. Sam was stumbling every now and then behind him, though Dean didn't allow himself to help, since he didn't want to annoy him any further. He was carrying the duffel with the jackets and another map. They needed the warm clothes in case they wouldn't make it back to the car in time.

Bobby had a map in his hands, following the paths with his finger, leading them in the right direction... _Hopefully. _There were no streets drawn on the map. Well... there were no streets at all.

John was still fuming, his son's angry words spinning through his head. His own, too. God... how could he be so stupid to answer to Sam's words? Even in anger... He was the adult.

All men were happy to finally reach the town.

"Dad... is this a ghost-town?" Dean asked. It really looked like one of the old Western towns, small wooden houses, already pretty ruined.

"Yeah... it is." Bobby answered, before John could say anything.

"And what kind of monster are we hunting?" Dean asked, looking at Sam worried. Usually it would be Sam to ask this kind of question.

"We don't know... the town was burned down in 1831. Since then murders are committed here. People get lost... every twelve years... every May. 13 murders."

"How?" Dean asked, whipping at the sweat on his forehead. "Nobody would come here."

"They seem to kinda catch the victims." John explained.

"And how do you know that the murders are committed right here... I mean... wait a second..." Dean frowned. "We've been here before... right?"

"What?" Sam asked, facing his father.

"We..." John struggled with himself. "Yeah... we've been here... twelve years ago. Last time we were too late... so-someone got killed." John ran a hand over his face. "And of course it would be here... it had started when the destruction of the town. I had also been here when... the person got killed. It's like the song of a siren, it attracts a person and then it kills the person. So the victims just have to stay close... like in the next town."

"Okay..." Dean looked at his father, nodding. His dad looked terribly. He concealed something.

"Guys... search for clues. We have to be ready before dusk." Bobby prodded, mentioning for Dean and Sam to take one side, heading of to another side. "When somebody get lost, we'll met at the car."

The two brothers left in the direction they were supposed to, not talking.

Dean was the one who broke the silence. "Sammy... do me a favor, would you? Don't give dad such a hard time. Stop fighting with him the whole time... and apologize for saying that you hate him."

"Why would I?" Sam yelled at Dean.

Dean cupped his hand over Sam's mouth, his other hand on the back of his little brother's head. "What the hell? The place his haunted... stop shouting." The elder snapped.

"Leave me alone." Sam pushed the other man back, glaring at Dean for touching him... "Dad wasn't any nicer."

"You're unbelievable." Dean fetched his EMF meter. It might be a ghost.

Sam stalked after his brother, till he suddenly stopped in track, gripping Dean's arm. "Did you hear that?" He asked, listening closer. Dean shook his head, but kept quiet, listening closely, tucking Sam to his side.

Then there was a noise.

Both Winchester brothers winced, turning around.

"Fuck" Dean cursed, feeling the earth vibrate, when a strong wind hurled sand, dust and stones into the air. "Sammy... run." Dean ordered, seeing a shadow in the storm. A _Ghost_. "Sam." Dean shouted, taking Sam's hand in his own, starting to run, taking Sam with him.

"Sam... faster." Dean commanded, pulling on his brother's hand. Sam, who hadn't expected the sudden movement fell to the ground, taking his cursing brother with him.

When Dean looked up again, the shadow... the ghost stood in front of them, stones swirling around it. The older brother jumped to his legs, helping Sam stand up, too. "Sammy..." He whispered, panicking, trying to push his brother behind him.

Too late, the older one realized when he heard the anguished cry from the teen beside him. Dean resisted the urge to turn around to Sam. He just held him upright. Damn it... something was wrong. _"Pull it together_._" _He thought, not knowing whether that order was directed at his little brother or himself.

Sam save behind his back, Dean quickly pulled his shotgun, and shot two times. A few bigger stones fell to the ground right in front of him.

"Damn..." Dean spun around. He could feel his brother's grip on his shirt.

"Sammy." Dean gently pulled Sam's right hand away from his little brother's left shoulder. "Oh no..."

Sam was pale, his eyes open wide in shock.

The hole in his shoulder was bleeding like mad.

"Where are we Dean?" Sam asked, supporting his weight on his older brother, the pain unbearable.

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**Reviews?**


	3. Chapter 3

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Okay... guys... sorry... it's short and nothing special... and I'm late...

School is a bitch... sry... I'm just able to write on Saturday's right now...

I hope I'll be able to continue...

**Lost**

"God Sammy..." Dean inspected the deep wound on Sam's shoulder, wincing when his little brother did. "Fuck..." He looked down on Sam's knee, that was also bleeding, though it looked not as bad, but painful nevertheless. It could wait.

"Dean" Sam's voice sounded thin... scared. "Where are we?"

"What?" Dean questioned, though he didn't sound really interested. There was still dust in his brother's wounds. He needed to clean them. He needed to know whether the stones that hit his little brother had also fractured the bones. "Sammy... can you move your arm?"

"Damn it... Dean..." Sam tried to get Dean's hand of his shoulder, without actually losing his own grip on the older brother. "Do you know where we are?"

"Sammy..." For the first time Dean looked into his little brother's pain-filled eyes. "No... actually... oh... darn.."

"Dean..." Sam's legs gave in, a feeling of nausea raising in his stomach. _God... it hurts._

"Sam" Dean panicked. His brother was hurt badly and they were lost. Running away in the desert was dumb. Even if they found that ghost town again, he wouldn't know on which side of the town they were, since every ruin looked pretty much the same there.

And Sam was indeed too weak to walk on his own, not even able to stand on his leg.

"We need to go to the car." Sam tucked on his brother's sleeve. "We have to be back before dusk."

"Have you lost your mind? How do you want to make it... I mean.. you don't look so good, Sammy." Dean tucked his brother against him, his arm around Sam's waist. "And I don't think you're in for me giving you a piggyback. You're not able to walk with that knee... are you?"

"I don't know... I can try." Sam mumbled, slurring.

"Don't be silly." Dean lowered Sam to the ground gently, before he got one of the plastic bottles out of the duffel, handing it to his little brother, after opening it. "Drink something... you look like your gonna puke... again."

"Thanks" Sam nodded, taking a sip, while Dean tried to get the material of Sam's jeans of Sam's knee. Sam grunted, covering his eyes with a hand.

"I don't think we'll make it to the car like this till dusk... we need to think about something else, Sammy." Dean gripped Sam's good arm firmly, tucking him upright. "Hold on kiddo. No talking back."

Sam didn't even roll his eyes, when he suddenly was on his brother's back, his good arm around Dean's neck, he just let his head fall against his brother's shoulder, trying to get rid of the dizziness.

"Don't pass out on me." Dean sounded just as worried as he was. He didn't even try to hide it, while he shouldered the duffel, avoiding Sam's left shoulder.

"What are we gonna do now, Dean?" Sam asked, cradling his arm against his chest, tears of pain in his eyes.

"We'll search for the ghost town at first and afterwards we'll try to get to the car..." Dean knew that that was a plain lie. They had been running quite a while, changing directions. Dean didn't even know whether they were going in the town's direction.

...

"Dean... stop." Sam whispered after an hour... they were really lost... both of the brothers could tell... Dean immediately obeyed, getting his brother down on the ground. Sam was white like a sheet, when he spilled his guts.

"Damn it, Sammy." Dean shook his head, moving his hands gently through his brother's hair. He was out of breath... His little brother was heavy. "You have to stop that shit. You're gonna get dehydrated."

"My shoulder hurts, Dean." Sam whimpered. He needed something against the pain... so badly...

"Okay... we need to find a shelter." Dean scooped his brother up again. "We can't risk to get too far away from the town. Dad will find us, Sammy." Dean reassured his brother.

"We can't spend the night out here... that's suicide." Sam fisted his brother's shirt, trembling.

"I'm not able to drag you around any further, kiddo, and we're really lost out here." Dean spotted a little cave. "We're gonna stay here... dad's gonna find us."

"Dean.. please... try to find the car alone..." Sam swallowed, biting his lip hard. "Just leave me here and pick me up later."

"Yeah... you really think I'd do that?" Dean asked, mocking his brother, entering the little shelter, setting Sam down. The younger brother squirmed in pain.

_God... I hope here are no snakes._

"No... I don't think you would..." Sam squeezed his eyes shut, trying to get rid of the pain. "Thanks for that Dean." His voice was barley over a whisper.

"Let me take a look at you." Dean gently lifted Sam's shirt. His brother's shoulder looked terrible. It still spilled a lot of blood.

"Sam... I have to clean it..." Dean announced, biting his lip... He fetched a bottle of water and let Sam take a gulp. Then Dean got out of his shirt, wrapping it around his hand. Sam whimpered, closing his eyes and turned his head away from his wounded shoulder.

Dean pressed the shirt against Sam's shoulder. Sam winced in pain and when the older brother pulled the cloth away, it came back covered with a mix of dust and blood.

It took Dean several minutes to get the wound clean. He couldn't look at Sam's face. The young teen's eyes were filled with tears, his face white like the shirt had been. "Please Dean... stop." Sam's pleaded, a lone tear escaping his eyes.

"I'm almost done..." Dean thumbed away the tear gently. "You're doing great kiddo... But I need to get the dust out of the wound... We can't risk an infection... okay?"

Sam nodded weakly, fisting the leg of Dean's jeans tighter.

"I'm sorry Sammy..." Dean apologized about five minutes later, after wrapping the wound.

Sam just nodded again, the pain visible in his face. "What are we gonna do now?"

"I'm gonna take a look at the probably fractured knee of yours... afterwards... we'll wait for dad to pick us up." Dean looked at the sky what was barley visible from the little cave. It was getting dark. "We'll have to put on our warm clothes, too..." Dean squeezed the skin on Sam's knee gently. "It's not that bad. Nothing's broken... The wound can wait, it's not as deep as the wound on your shoulder." He didn't want to cause his brother further pain.

Sam nodded, relieved.

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"Sam... come here..." Dean gently tucked on the sleeve of Sam's thick jacket.

The younger brother was trembling like mad. He looked at Dean, like he wanted to make sure that this was a serious offer. When he couldn't find any irony, Sam scooted over to his big brother, nestling down in his brother's chest, one of Dean's legs supporting his weight against his back, Dean's other leg under his own legs. "It's so cold..."

"I know." Dean slowly began to panic. He looked at the water bottle which was already starting to freeze. He hugged Sam closer, covering his little brother up with the empty duffle bag. "Don't fall asleep, kiddo." Dean opened his jacket, tucking the edges around his brother, so Sam could bury himself even closer.

Sam opened his eyes, but couldn't hold them open for long. "Dean... I'm scared... dad won't..." Sam's voice broke and his body shuddered, a tremor shaking his body.

"No Sammy... dad's gonna find us... I promise... hey Sam..." Dean nudged his brother. "Sammy..."

"Sammy." Dean raised his voice, just too realize that Sam was out cold. "Damn it Sammy..." Dean touched Sam's forehead with his own. "Don't do that to me..." Dean desperately rubbed his brother's shoulder and waist, trying to warm Sam up. "Don't leave me, Sammy."

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Review? Please?


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